Rebellion
by Visage
Summary: An afternoon of chopping wood doesn't go quite as planned.  Originally written for a Prompt Challenge years and years ago.


Rebellion

By Visage

Rated: G (…Maybe a strong G…)

Warnings: Don't show to your characters, lest they get any ideas, too.

Feedback: Yes, please!

Note: Digging though my archives as I'm getting ready to move out of my parent's house, I found my old writing notebook. This was in the pages, back from when I participated in a weekly writing challenge on a message board. It's just a little piece of fluff to prove to you all that I'm still alive and show you WHY I haven't written anything new in the past few years. This one goes out to the girls from BW!

Adam lifted the axe handle high above his head. With a forceful stroke he slammed it down, cleanly splitting the log in its path.

He let out a deep sigh of air, taking a break from his wood chopping. He closed his eyes as he wiped the back of his arm across his forehead, enjoying the relative cool feel of his bare skin. Small rivulets of water ran down his neck, burying themselves in the fabric of his shirt.

He smiled, thinking how good the early fall Nevada breeze would feel on his exposed back. Slowly, he began to undo the butto-

"Nu-uh. I DON'T think so! I am NOT exposing myself in public like this!"

The Author's lower lip trembled. _But… But, Adam! It's the prompt! You know as well as I do every week someone gives us a prompt on my message board and we have to write a little story or scene that incorporates it! This week just happens to be "without a shirt!" I've just GOT to do it!_

"Think again, Shakespeare." Adam slammed the axe blade deep into the large log he was using as a chopping block before making his way to the porch. "Go use your "magic pen" on someone else! I hear Joe's been wanting to show off."

_Aw, Adam, you know I write a terrible Joe! And Hoss… Jeepers, I just can never capture him quite right. And your father! Pfft! I usually only write him as a little kid! What do you want me to do? A "Little Ben" bathtub scene?_

The little wooden boat bobbed merrily in the tub of water-

"No! No, no, no, you stop RIGHT there!"

_ Adam, you should be honored! Think of all the 'Adam Girls' out there in Internet Land you'll be disappointing!_

"No, thank you."

_Are you serious right now? You do it ALL THE TIME on the show! I mean… not as much as SOME people, and not NEARLY enough to satisfy the crazy girls out there, but it shouldn't be anything new! The girls can't even really see anything this way, they have to imagine it!_

"I know." Adam sat gruffly on the porch. "THAT'S what I'm afraid of. Besides, you've never written anything risqué before. Not even below PG!

_A STRONG PG, thankyouverymuch!_

"It goes against your very nature!"

_Well- I… uh, you see-_

"That's what I thought."

The Author crossed her arms in a pout. _Fine Then! Be that way! See if I care! But I hope you aren't forgetting you're still dead in my three-fourths finished 'Book Month' story! _

Adam looked up from under his eyebrows, still managing to 'look down his nose at her' while he was sitting. "The "Book Month" story you started six years ago? You've been in the same spot through your Bachelors and Masters degrees. I've grown accustomed to literary purgatory."

_The point is I don't HAVE to FIX it!_

"Ha! Yeah, right! And how long do you think you could last in this fandom if you did that?" Adam rested his chin in the palm of his hand, drumming the fingers on his other hand on his knee. A knowing smirk slowly appeared as The Author didn't answer. "Exactly what I thought."

Adam stood and headed for the barn, a slight swagger in his step. "I'm getting out of here before you head down a path you can't turn back from. Why don't you call me when you want to finish that 'What Happened Instead' for _The_ _Crucible_? That one showed a lot of promise." With a wave of his hand he was gone.

_The nerve! Fine then, it's not like I need him! There're three other Cartwrights, a Foreman, a Cook, a Sheriff… More than a few Doctors and countless other Ranch Hands I can tortu-… er… _"write"_ about… But how in the world am I going to find something to fit the prompt in time to post?_

_…_

_Heeeeeere, Benny-Boy! It's time for your B-A-T-H!_


End file.
